Continuation of - Cancer is a long hard road

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I'm sitting here ruminating about life with a big ol' glass of Bourbon and noticing that I am spending way too much time not talking about my Jinni.  With her post-surgery regime of 12 weekly chemo treatments, she only has one more round of Taxatere to go, and you need to know some things before we are through with this episode in our lives.

Chemotherapy can become 'old hat' to everyone except the recipient of the cure.  When it all gets down to it, Jinni is the only person among us who is really having to suffer.

Sure, we can all offer words of encouragement, meals of meatloaf, and acts of unselfish love to get her through this but the fact is; beating cancer is a one person performance.  The rest of us are merely stage hands. I have probably allowed complacency and the 'routineness' of it all cloud the fact that my girlfriend is a brave, strong but suffering woman.  You can see it in her eyes.... she is ready to get all of this behind us.  I am too.

Even with all of the wonderful support we have recieved since Jinni was diagnosed back in November of '04, the truth is that it all comes down to one thing - the patient's will to carry on.  Jinni has that... in spades.  But it has not been easy.  Case in point...

Jinni recently broke my heart when she told me of one of her experiences as a very public cancer patient.  Last week Jesse wanted to go to a Grasshopper's baseball game with me.  Problem was that I was working in High Point and couldn't get away to get him there in time for the game's start so Jinni took him and dropped him off and came home.  I promised Jesse I would get there as soon as I could but some things came up and I wasn't able to leave High Pont until around 8:30p.

Because Jesse had been at the game for so long by himself, Jinni agreed to make her first ever trip to First Horizon Stadium to hook up with our youngest son in my stead.  She made her way in to the stadium and found her reserved seat and waited for Jesse to find her, but other things unfortunately transpired.

Sitting there, sans hair and with no desire to wear a head covering in the 90 degree heat, she heard a muted conversation among some young people a few rows back.  "That woman is bald, how gross" came the giggling, cruel sounds of some clueless, ill-mannered, boy.  "Yeah, that's sick", one his buddies concurred.

Jinni could hear some level-headed girl among the group chime in with, "maybe she is a cancer patient and that's why she doesn't have any hair."  But by that time the damage was done.  My girl didn't deserve such cruelty and local funeral homes missed some business because I wasn't there to hear it for myself.

Life as a cancer patient holds more than its share of indignities.  Poking and prodding by doctors and nurses, a sometimes uncontrollable gag reflex, fingers so numb that help is often needed with blouse buttoning, constipation, high anxiety preceeding each treatment, total hair loss, and no sense of taste are among the litany of things one must endure to get through the process of healing.  And my Jinni has gone through all of it with little more than an occasional wimper.

Thankfully, we are about through with this whole episode and it won't be a minute too soon.  It has been a long, hard road and one that has offered us little redeeming benefit except for the gracious circling of a wonderful community's loving wagons.

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